


Chicken

by Stariceling



Category: Tintin (Comics)
Genre: M/M, Post-Series, Tintin kink meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-23
Updated: 2012-06-23
Packaged: 2017-12-06 04:33:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/731471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stariceling/pseuds/Stariceling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Abdullah's pranks don't have any effect on Chang, he has to take drastic measures. (Abdullah/Chang one sided, Gay Chicken.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chicken

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place at least six years after the last Tintin adventure. So Abdullah is 16 while Chang is in his early 20s.
> 
> Original prompt: Abdullah convinces Chang to play gay chicken - it's Abdullah's idea of mischief, as most of his pranks do not seem to phase Chang.

Abdullah was convinced that Chang was the worst thing that had ever happened to him. That. . . pirate, that polite politician. . . even the curses he picked up from the blistering old sea captain he admired somehow fell short when faced with Chang. From the moment he arrived at Marlinspike, he had done nothing but ruin Abdullah’s life.

His life didn’t need ruining any more than it already was. His father had somehow been convinced that he needed to be shipped off to a boarding school halfway across the world. All he had done was run off a few (dozen) tutors, and now no one wanted him. Abdullah understood the importance of getting the best possible education so he could eventually take his father’s place, really he did, but that didn’t stop him hating it and nursing suspicions that they only wanted to be rid of him. His only solace was spending his short vacation at Marlinspike, with his beloved Blistering Barnacles, and now Chang was ruining even that.

It was hate at first sight. Chang wasn’t so impressive after all the happy fuss that he was coming to visit. He was barely taller than Tintin, and skinny, and his hair would be hanging over his face if he didn’t have it cut so short. He’d smiled when they first met, so widely that he showed off good-natured dimples, and for some reason that stuck in Abdullah’s memory. Obviously no one had warned Chang, so Abdullah had gone out of his way to make a first impression with his brand new joy buzzer.

For his troubles he found that Chang had painfully strong fingers. Instead of jumping and yelling, or anything satisfying, Chang had responded to the surprise of the joy buzzer by tensing and gripping his hand hard enough to hurt.

And then Tintin had threatened to leave him at the train station and make him walk home for his little greeting. That set the tone of the visit. For some inexplicable reason everyone loved Chang more than him.

The stuffy Butler actually got a smile on his droopy face at Chang’s arrival. The Professor who never listened would include Chang in his cheerful, muddled conversations when he could be dragged from his laboratory for meals. Even Blistering Barnacles welcomed Chang with open arms. Abdullah had wanted to see him bellow about home invaders until his voice shook dust from the rafters. Instead he greeted Chang with a gruff bear hug.

Tintin and Chang were nearly inseparable. When they put their heads together, their French was often peppered with that _Chinese_ language, which frustrated Abdullah to no end because he didn’t understand it. Snowy would dance around their feet like an excited puppy because here were two people who would continually indulge him with petting and scratches, sometimes even at the same time so that their hands collided and they laughed. They laughed a lot together, probably enjoying some secret thing that they wouldn’t share.

Being the only one in the house not enjoying himself Abdullah set out to make it clear that not everyone loved Chang. He soon found that Chang’s irritating habit of making friends wasn’t the worst thing about him by a long stretch.

Chang wouldn’t react to any of his lovely pranks.

That wasn’t entirely true. On his first day Chang had laughed at the spring-rigged spider Abdullah hid in the sugar bowl. He had a nice laugh. Not like Blistering Barnacle’s booming thunder, but it was a full, joyful noise.

Of course as soon as Abdullah knew he liked the sound, Chang stopped laughing at any of his pranks. It just wasn’t fair. Abdullah didn’t know if it was those prominent cheekbones or the shape of his lips or what, but Chang’s face just didn’t look _right_ if he wasn’t smiling. He had to be doing it on purpose, just to get at Abdullah and make his whole visit even more miserable.

The more he did, the less Chang reacted. After a few days caps scattered through the house and firecrackers slipped under chairs didn’t even make him jump, let alone bellow and chase in the wonderful way Blistering Barnacles did. Chang casually brushed tacks off of chairs, pretended not to notice when the sugar bowl was filled with salt, and politely turned down the offer of pepper-laced candies. He’d even pulled Tintin out of the way of Abdullah’s water pistol.

And then there was his incident with the snake. Chang didn’t even have the decency to scream after all the trouble Abdullah went to obtaining a live snake and slipping it into his room. No, he had to come down in the morning holding it, to ask if it was part of one of the Professor’s experiments that had escaped. As if there was no other way a snake would get in the house! (Apparently he’d heard there were no poisonous snakes in Belgium. Tintin was quick to let him know that yes, there were, even if what he had was a harmless and uncommonly placid grass snake.) The traitorous snake would apparently rather stay looped in lazy coils over Chang’s arms, idly flicking its tongue in and out, than bite. Even the snake preferred him to Abdullah.

This could not stand. He would get a reaction out of Chang if it was the last thing he did.

It took some patience, something that had never been Abdullah’s strong suit, but he finally managed to corner Chang alone in the library one afternoon.

Chang was in the middle of writing a letter, tapping his pen absentmindedly against his chin as he considered what he had written. Abdullah tried to read it over his shoulder, but of course it was in Chinese just to irritate him.

“You’re not with Tintin today?” The two of them had been together almost constantly since Chang appeared. They didn’t even care when Abdullah tried to make fun of them for being so close.

“He’s out conducting an interview. He promised to be back in a few hours. Did you need him?”

This was exactly the chance Abdullah was looking for. “Want to play a game with me?”

“All right.” Chang put down his pen while mocking Abdullah with a calm look that stayed just shy of tipping over into a smile. “What is it?”

Abdullah braced both hands on the arms of Chang’s chair and leaned over him. He was the only one who didn’t yet turn Abdullah down automatically, and that made it easy to get Chang right where he wanted him. Chang didn’t know it yet, but this was one game Abdullah never lost.

“It’s really simple. We just move closer together, like going in for a kiss, and whoever backs out first is a chicken.” He’d picked this up from other boys at the boarding school, one of the infinite ways to torment his peers.

“You call that a game?”

“Are you too chicken to play at all?”

Chang just crossed his arms and gave Abdullah a stern look, as if he could be shamed into backing down. Obviously he still didn’t know who he was dealing with. Abdullah hadn’t given up on anything in his life for shame.

Abdullah drifted closer, but Chang didn’t so much as twitch, staying still even when their foreheads touched. He was pretending not to play along, but he was too stubborn to tell Adbullah to stop, and that was the whole point of the game.

A quick dart forward was a move that had made almost anyone else jerk back in surprise, but Chang didn’t even blink.

Their noses bumped, and Abdullah was oddly aware of Chang’s eyes staring steadily into his. From their first meeting he had been determined not to take Chang seriously. He didn’t want to recognize the calm maturity he was seeing, the look that Chang was just waiting out his foolishness.

His hands slipped from the armrests, one bracing on Chang’s knee, the other against his chest. It was against the rules, but he needed to steady himself. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was a game, something to tease other people over. Brushing his nose against Chang’s shouldn’t make his heart stutter and pound.

“Abdullah,” Chang murmured, his voice dropping to that low warning tone adults so loved to use. “I know you’re not going to do it. You know better than this.”

Abdullah wasn’t listening. He could feel Chang’s breath on his lips, and the ghostly warmth of it made him want. . . .

If Chang thought he wouldn’t go through with it, Abdullah had to prove him wrong.

He didn’t exactly flinch, but he did close his eyes. The next moment he felt Chang’s mouth under his. Even at the last second, Chang hadn’t backed down.

It was impossible to think of anything else once he was actually kissing Chang. Satin-soft lips parted, and he greedily smothered the exclamation of surprise that tickled against his mouth. Abdullah hadn’t known kissing was meant to feel like this. No one else had ever stood up to him to this point.

Chang gripped his chin with fingers as unyielding as iron, and pushed him away. Abdullah could only let out an inarticulate groan of want. He wasn’t done!

“That isn’t something you do for a joke.”

Abdullah’s eyes snapped open to find Chang glaring at him. Chang was actually angry with him. No prank Abdullah could think of had made him angry before. He’d thought he wanted any reaction at all, but now he wasn’t sure he wanted this one.

Chang pushed him off, and he belatedly realized he had his fingers clenched in Chang’s shirt when he overbalanced and sat down hard on the floor. Without another word, Chang stepped around him and strode out of the room.

“Chicken!” Abdullah yelled after him. “You’re the chicken!”

Chang didn’t dignify his yell with an answer.

It was just a game, and he’d won. He’d finally gotten a response. That was what he’d wanted, wasn’t it? So why did he feel worse instead of better? Why did he feel like he’d screwed up?

Abdullah pressed his face into Chang’s vacated seat and screamed at the tops of his lungs, “Billions of blue blistering barnacles!”

It didn’t help. He just didn’t have any curses to adequately describe Chang.


End file.
